Where We Left Off
by AgainstHope
Summary: An alt Season 8 following the BtVS and AtS finales. When Spike comes back into her life Buffy realizes that things aren't what they appear. What happened in Sunnydale has set off a chain of events that seems to end in an apocalypse of biblical proportions
1. Forward to Normal

**A/N:**

For those of you who read my first attempt at this story, I apologize for having you start from the beginning, but I think it'll really be much better as a result in the end. This story has been bouncing around in my head for a very long time, and I really wanted to do it justice. Just to let you know up front, it looks like it'll be about 50 chapters when it's done. I hope you all enjoy it and please let me know if you do! Although, even if you think it's absolute crap, I'd love to hear why. xP

**Disclaimer:**

Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, and co. own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and all their associated characters, pasts, plots, etc. I do not. I claim no rights to them, and write this story purely in the name of fun, with no intention to profit. The plot itself of this story is mine, as well as at least one minor character to be introduced later. Please do not steal those. If you want to repost this story somewhere, give me credit, and let me know, though I'd prefer you just link to here.

**Warnings:**

This story will contain discussions of the bible, and biblical apocalypse. I will do my best not to offend anyone with my portrayal of it, but if you think you might be offended, you may want to pass on this story. There will also be mild to moderate swearing in this story, and at a later time there may be some sex, though I will attempt to keep it vague and T, but if any chapter begins to stray towards M a clear warning will be at the top of the chapter, and an alternate summary will be available for anyone uncomfortable with the content.

_A special thank you to my amazing beta lazerwolf314!_

* * *

_A __simple piece of metal is __buried a few inches in the ground__, with the face of a goat inscribed on it, blood pooling in grooves along the design._

_Above the metal stands a lion, blood dripping from its mouth. "Come and see." It roars._

_The scent of burning flesh fills the air. Embers seem to show in cracks along marble skin. Skin disintegrates, showing only flesh, then only bone, then only ash. And the world fills with a flash of white light._

_A clear stone amulet falls to the ground, which__ begins to__ collapse around it._

_Horse hooves can be heard echoing all around, and thousands of women, of every race and age begin to march forward to the beat._

"_Sorry, luv, didn't take."_

…

Buffy woke with a start, her sheets sticking to her sweat soaked skin. She groaned and turned to look at her clock. Seeing that it was slightly before 6, she let out an annoyed groan and flopped onto her back.

A few months ago a dream like this would have had her mind in a knot. It had felt so real, and yet it was beyond cryptic. Truthfully though, she'd been having the same dream almost every night since arriving in Italy. There were occasionally variations; sometimes she saw the horse, a pure white stallion, leading the girls. Other times she saw a crossbow, and even Andrew had been there once, standing, shaking, over the seal.

Now the only times she woke up sweating, were nights like this, nights she heard his voice, or saw his face. Sure, they were both unforgettable, with that accent, those cheekbones, that platinum hair, those delectable lips… But there was something about the dreams with him that made it harder to wake up, to face the day that she knew wouldn't hold even a mention of him.

Occasionally she had other dreams with him… Different dreams. But those were a different matter altogether and sadly, like most dreams; they faded from her memory quickly as the day went on. These dreams, they were heavier. They stuck with her through the day, every detail just as clear as if she were seeing it for real in broad daylight.

She had had dreams like that before, dreams that stuck with her long after she'd woken up. But those had, for the most part, been slayer dreams. This though, this was different. It wasn't some memory of a dead slayer, and it didn't foretell the future. It couldn't, not when it showed things clearly past, people long dead.

Knowing she couldn't dwell on it, Buffy untangled herself from her bedspread, and made her way into the bathroom. A nice shower might help. Wash the thoughts from her brain, the sweat from her body, and brace her for the rest of her day. Deep down though, she knew it was fruitless. His voice would ring in her ears all day now, haunting her. And yet, in a twisted way, she was grateful for that. It was better than a day without.

…

Buffy sat behind her office desk, twirling a stake in her hand as she stared absent-mindedly at a large stack of papers in front of her. She grumbled to herself as she skimmed the first few pages idly. This was what she'd been reduced to. One girl in all the world chosen to… read proposals, grade exams, and discipline students.

Years ago, she'd have been thrilled at the idea. The very prospect that someday she'd be able to live a "normal" life, with a typical day job, would've made her grin wildly and insist on celebrating at the Bronze. Now, she'd come to the overwhelming conclusion that there was, without question, a hell dimension dedicated to just such a lifestyle.

But, as everyone kept reminding her, this was how they saved the world now. This was how watchers and slayers learned to fight evil. She glanced at the stake she was twirling nostalgically before tossing it back into her top drawer and picking up a red pen in its place. The best she could do for the world was to teach, to lead, to babysit. So, for the foreseeable future, she'd live the life of a principal, for the good of the world.

"Hey Buffster!" Xander said as he walked into the office.

"Please tell me you come bearing an apocalypse. A nice, cheery, paperwork-free apocalypse?" She asked, setting her pen down as she smiled up at her friend.

"I'm pretty sure we've got to fill out apocalypse forms in triplicate, actually."

"Hmph. Well, a paper-eating demon then?"

"Actually, I think one of the junior Wicca classes summoned one of those last semester. But nope, I'm here to tell you you're needed in a meeting."

"I didn't think I had any meetings today." Buffy groaned, squinting at the sloppily written scribbles that made up her schedule.

"It's of the urgent, last minute variety. You'd think seers would plan their meetings ahead, but you'd be wrong."

"Seers?"

"Yep, conference room's full of 'em"

"Me and the prophecies sooo not mixxy." She sighed, standing up to go to the conference room.

Xander wished her luck, but explained he couldn't go to the meeting. He had a lecture to give in half an hour, and would therefore be spared the seers usually very cryptic prophecies. Buffy, however, had no classes until noon, and would have to attend. She gathered up a few of her things, and headed through the hallways she had grown to know very well in the past few months.

In years at Sunnydale High, she'd never quite figured out where some classes were. Then again, she hadn't exactly had perfect attendance either. Here, at Paladin University, she had no trouble finding her way through the maze of hallways from her office on the third floor down to Conference Room 7 in the 2nd basement. Unfortunately, she still arrived last, and it was clear the rest of the room had been waiting on her. She sighed, bracing herself before she walked through the door.


	2. City of Demons

**A/N: **Thank you so much to everyone who read, and especially those who reviewed. It really means a lot to me to have your feedback, so thank you ^^

_Disclaimer, warnings, and beta-thanking all carry over from Ch 1 along through the rest of the story. Special warnings will be placed at the top of potentially offensive chapters, but otherwise, I'll try to keep A/Ns etc. too a minimum._

* * *

"Hello, Buffy" Giles greeted her from his seat at the conference room table.

"Giles." She replied, nodding curtly.

Doing her best to ignore Giles, who she had yet to forgive for their last year in Sunnydale, she gazed around the table. It was just her, Giles, and five seers by the looks of it. Or at least, five figures in long, intricate, robes. And considering she hadn't fallen that far behind in fashion trends, that probably meant they were seers.

Repressing a sigh, she took the nearest seat at the table. "So then, do you need to read my palm, or can we just get straight to the cryptic talk?" She feigned a smile, but it lacked any conviction.

Giles began to polish his glasses busily, but the seers seemed unfazed by her comment, at least the ones she could see the faces of.

"It would appear…" Giles began, his voice terse, "that your ex has decided Hell would be well suited to Los Angeles."

"Wolfram and Hart making a movie adaptation of your favorite book now or something? Didn't think A Watcher's Guide to Demonic Shenanigans, would have much market." Buffy shot back.

Satisfied with the way Giles' face fell at her words she turned to face the seers before continuing, this time in a more measured tone. "So, how bad is it?"

"They have averted an apocalypse." The seer in the dark maroon robe explained.

"And triggered a second by doing so." Finished the one in bright yellow.

"Averted an apocalypse?" Buffy asked, tilting her head as though the information wasn't processing. In truth, it wasn't. She had been told, time and time again, that Angel had switched sides. That he was running an evil corporation, doing evil deeds, and that she might need to send a team to stake him shortly.

"We suspect that in the past year, Angel has been infiltrating a highly secretive society dedicated to triggering an apocalypse." Giles explained, "It appears he overthrew this society, and Wolfram and Hart retaliated by opening several hell dimensions near Los Angeles."

"So we'll send teams. Lots of them. Right away." Buffy spoke quickly, standing up from her chair and starting to pace. She never should've lost her trust in Angel. He still had his soul so he never would have turned evil again. She shouldn't have doubted that. Why did she keep letting Giles and the others cut people out of her life?

"We advise against it, dear." A sweet older woman spoke. Her robe was a deep midnight blue, and she seemed very apologetic, but Buffy hardly noticed.

"And why is that!" Buffy practically shouted across the table, arms flailing in anger.

"Buffy" Giles spoke in a concerned tone, clearly trying to urge her to calm down. "I'm sure they have their reasons."

"Well then they better get talking." She snapped harshly, not even sparing Giles a glance.

"We cannot say. But we ask you wait. At least two days." Yet another seer spoke, this one's face was hidden under a dark emerald robe, but his voice growled in such a way Buffy knew he couldn't be human.

"Two days!" Buffy looked at them like they were crazy, and who knew? They probably were. "All of hell. All of multiple hells could be on earth in two days!"

"You must be patient, dear." The older seer insisted, her tone seemingly beyond dispute.

…

Spike braced himself, reaffirming his grip on his sword. Yet another wave of the onslaught had been slain, but in every direction, the horizon was blotted out by more and more demons still to come.

Behind him Illyria and Angel moved closer, so that the three were positioned with their backs towards one another. Three against millions, hardly seemed a fair fight. Sure, Illyria was an old one, she could take her fair share, but she didn't have her full potential. And Spike and Angel were stronger than most, but they were still only vampires; wounded, exhausted vampires facing off against dragons and demons four times their size.

Gunn had only lasted a few rounds. He'd fought surprisingly well, Spike had to admit, but then again he'd been told that before the whole lawyer gig, Charlie Boy had been one hell of a fighter. Still though, human frailty had no place in a battle like this. As it was, Spike and Angel were bleeding profusely, and starting to feel the effects of going for over a day and a half without sleep or non-demon blood.

To be honest, they weren't sure they'd make it much longer.

"We are being beaten." Illyria observed, her voice cool and even as it stated the obvious fact.

"Really, pet? And what gave you that bloody idea?" Spike spat back, but his retort and pointed sarcasm were lost on the god.

The demons were closing in on them now. They seemed to focus their attacks on the weakening vampires, but several of the larger, more foolish demons went at Illyria.

"We are losing. I do not wish to lose." She explained, as she swung her sword through the neck of an approaching demon.

The demon's head fell clean off, falling to the floor as its strange brown body began to melt into a rancid slime on the pavement. Several nearby demons sidestepped the remains, but those that didn't, started to burn where its blood splashed against them, causing them to reel back, away from the god king.

"Then keep fighting, Illyria. Unless you have some alternative." Angel finally piped in. He knew all too well that Spike would continue with his sarcasm and the conversation would just serve to crush any hopes they had left.

Angel held his sword firmly and began to swing in broad strokes at the approaching threats. His sword smashed against the firm bone arm of a Gontag demon and nearly cracked on impact. Pulling the sword back, he attempted to plunge it into the creature's torso.

"I will kill them all, and we will win."

"And how do you soddin' well expect to go about that, then?" Spike retorted as he threw a right hook towards a fledgling vampire approaching from his left.

The female vampire fell backwards quickly, only to get trampled by the demons behind it. She'd no doubt be back up in a few rounds, but was a far cry from a real threat in this mob. Instead Spike focused his attention on a glowing red beast that seemed to be spitting fire out of a variety of orifices.

"I will use my powers to eviscerate them."

"Case you've forgotten, Blue, good ole Wes took all your powers away. Sure you're strong, but you're not gonna be pulling any major mojo."

As Spike spoke, the fire-spewing demon began to pulse beneath his skin. Deciding that that probably didn't bode well, he ducked down and tried to impale the pulsing portion with his sword. Unfortunately, this backfired; a molten liquid burst from the wound catching fire the second it met the air. The liquid raced up the sword, igniting Spike's hand and forearm, and causing him to drop the weapon swearing profusely as he abandoned it's now glowing red form.

"He did not take them away. He pulled them in further. Sucking them into a singularity that is tied to this shell." Illyria explained, condescension leaking into her tone.

"Perhaps we can worry about the semantics later, you two?" Angel warned.

His tone was tight, but that probably had less to do with the bickering, and more to do with the dragon that had taken flight several blocks away and was now swooping in their direction. He'd spotted it several hours ago, but it hadn't made itself a threat until now.

"It is not semantics. If they were taken away I could not use them." Illyria explained, speaking to them as if they were small children.

Spike's jaw dropped for a moment, struggling to process her words as he snatched up a bloody axe from nearby and cut the head off the fire demon. It fell to the ground, liquid seeping from the wound, and lighting several nearby demons on fire. Some were dissuaded, but others stoically continued forward in their attack despite the flames.

"Do you mean to tell me," Spike began, "that you can access your powers, Blue?" His voice dangerously even as he fought to control his temper.

"Of course." Illyria said, tilting her head to face him, as she bisected several demons behind her without even looking. "That is how I have been fighting."

"Not just the strength, Illyria. Spike means your_ full_ powers." Angel explained, leaning back slightly to avoid a punch. He brought his sword up and the vampire was too slow to avoid having his head severed. Angel didn't even blink at the rain of dust. He was just grateful it wasn't more of that acidic slime.

"All of my powers remain at the singularity. Forever pulled inwards." Illyria began to explain, her tone still frighteningly even amidst the chaos. "I can pull them back to me to use, before they pull further away still."

"So you can beat these bastards?" Spike asked, his own tone now condescending in response.

"Yes." She answered simply, swinging her sword into a demon that was trying to sneak up on Angel.

"Then bloody do it you daft bint!" Spike shouted, anger clear in his tone.

As the last syllable fell from his lips, all Spike saw was blue.

…

Buffy paced her office. Her eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but the stack of papers that was now beginning to lean dangerously on her desk. Two days. Those damn seers were making her wait here for two days. Like she would be any good here.

She had been unable to focus on work, ignoring all but the most urgent memos. She'd become so distant, in fact, that Giles had cut his visit short, and returned to Egypt with Andrew. The only time Buffy would actually do work was if there was news about Angel or Los Angeles. But there was no real news. All they knew was that multiple hell dimensions were leaking out into the city. Locals had, for the most part, fled although several hundred still seemed to be missing. But all that she could think of when she saw it was that Angel was on that list, Angel and his team.

She'd been so convinced by everyone else that he was evil. What a slap in the face it had been to find out that he had been, all this time, trying to save the world and he could've used her, her new resources, and she'd simply cut him off. The guilt was starting to eat away at her. But unlike Angel, Buffy couldn't brood; it just wasn't how she worked.

She needed to do something. She needed something to slay, to fight. But the fight was in Los Angeles, not Italy. The fight was in the one city that, for some cryptic and confusing reason, she was not allowed to go to.

"Buffy!" Xander's voice interrupted her inner monologue as he burst through the open door of her office, worry and concern mingling nervously on his face.

Her eyes quickly took in his expression, and her own face steeled itself against emotion. "What's the news?" She asked, her voice eerily calm. It had been nearly two days now. Whatever it was, this was probably what the seers had made her wait for.

"It's… gone." Xander explained. His voice wavered, as though he was still questioning the news even as he relayed it to Buffy. "Most of the city is leveled. We don't know how…."

"I want all the base's teams there." Buffy demanded. Her voice was harsh, as though she was speaking to her employee, not her childhood friend. "Get me a jet right away. Alpha team should be at the airport in ten minutes."

"I'm on it, Buff." Xander agreed, nodding his head quickly before turning and heading out of her office. He stopped at her door for a second before turning his head back to face her. "Are you…?"

"Just go…" Buffy cut him off, sorrow creeping into her voice slightly as she gathered a few essentials from her desk and followed him out.


	3. Coming Together

**AN: **So very sorry for the delay in this chapter. The next chapter is very close to finalized though, so hopefully it'll be up in the next few days to make up for it. As always thanks so much to my reviewers, and to my beta!

* * *

The plane ride was hell. Buffy spent the time waiting for the plane to take off sitting quietly in her seat, fidgeting with a stake that she'd stuffed up her coat's sleeve. Once they were in the air though, even Xander and Dawn's prodding couldn't keep her seated. Instead she spent most of the flight pacing up and down the aisle, avoiding curious glances from her team.

Several slayers muttered to themselves nervously, trying to figure out what exactly had Buffy Summers in such a state. A few of the slayers had been with her since Sunnydale, but no one had ever seen her this on edge since the move to Europe. A few of the watchers knew vaguely about Angel and his team at Wolfram and Hart, or had, at the very least, heard rumors, and were enjoying having the upper hand in conversations with the slayers.

Every so often their whispered gossip would start to get louder, but Dawn and Xander were quick to shoot silencing glares at the newbies. The warning was clear, that they had better keep it down before Buffy heard them, because if she did, there'd be hell to pay for their gossiping ways.

Eventually a voice came over the intercom. Everyone was told to wake up, and to take his or her seat. Buffy glared at the speaker, but sure enough made her way to sit down between Xander and a gradually stirring Dawn.

"You ok, Buff?" Xander asked, watching as Buffy's leg seemed to bounce of its own accord.

"Fine." She snapped harshly in response.

"Ooookay." Dawn raised her hands in surrender and rolled her eyes as she let out a yawn. "I'm sure he's fine, Buffy. Angel's lived through his fair share of apocalypses."

"Just takes one…" Buffy commented, her voice softer now, and scarily quiet.

Xander and Dawn exchanged knowing glances, but decided it was best not to say anything. She was thinking about Spike again, and how she couldn't lose Angel now too. The logic was a bit fuzzy, but for Buffy to lose her second champion now, after everything that had happened, they knew the blow would destroy her. Especially since she had yet to really recover from Spike's death.

"So, who all should be there?" Buffy asked, looking at Xander with a plea in her eyes clearly urging him to change the subject.

"We haven't been in touch for awhile. My guess is Faith and the Cleveland team should be there for sure. And I'm guessing Willow, Kennedy, and the rest of the Brazil team should be there too." Xander explained, grabbing a small electronic device from his pocket to answer her question.

"And the other three teams?" Dawn asked, trying to remember world geography mentally.

"That'll depend on how long it took them to set out. I assume we'll beat most of them though."

The landing was rough, as the airports and runways had all been reduced to rubble in the explosion. The fallout was excessive and as Buffy heard the crashes and rumblings on the plane's chasse she knew that it was the debris of the first city she'd ever called home.

Almost as soon as the plane came to a stop Buffy was standing and making her way towards the exit. Dawn hurried after her, while Xander lagged back, doing his best to make sure the rest of the Alpha team was ready for whatever they might face.

"Alright guys, so we're not really sure what's up just yet…" Xander began, his eye scanning over the team as they began to gather their travel bags. "But assume the worst. There was a large explosion, seemingly magical. We're not sure of the exact fallout, or how many survivors we'll find, or what they'll be. Before things blew up there were a lot more demons than people left, so keep an eye out."

Buffy was hardly listening as she hurried her way down the steps. Dawn lagged slightly behind, carrying both her own bag and Buffy's as she tried to keep up with her super-powered sister.

A brunette in a sleeveless tank was approaching from a distance, and both of the Summers women instantly recognized her. "Faith!" Buffy called out with a succinct nod before striding towards her briskly.

Dawn huffed as she tried to keep the bags from slipping in her arms. She briefly contemplated trying to levitate them, but quickly thought better of it. She was training to be wiccan now, but Buffy was still very uneasy about her magic. She was fairly weak, and didn't really have much control yet, plus with all of Willow's horror stories, it magic wasn't always a welcome solution to the older Summers sister.

"Heyya, B." Faith said, smirking as she approached the plane's landing site, easily maneuvering herself through the rubble towards her sister slayer. The two men following behind her seemed to be struggling to keep up, and slipped semi regularly on the rubble that made up their path.

As Buffy caught up to Faith she took a deep breath and finally let herself take in her surroundings. All around them the world was nearly flattened, only large boulders that she knew must be made of fallen buildings marring the smooth horizon. It was almost all grey, with nothing but a few bright colors of crushed vehicles that hadn't escaped broke up the monochrome. In the distance, about half a mile in the direction Faith had come from, a few buildings seemed to be more or less in tact, structurally at least, their edifices cleaned of almost all distinguishing features.

"What's the status?" Buffy asked, her voice hard, and her arms folded across her chest as she did her best to give Faith a small smile. The two were on good terms, but right now Buffy wasn't willing to make friendly conversation.

"Yeah, nice seeing you again too, B. What's it been, a couple months?" Faith asked, but at Buffy's raised eyebrow she just rolled her eyes and shrugged. "We don't got much yet. Willow and the bitch got here a bit ago, they're doing what they can. Something about noise though, I don't know exactly, basically the magic isn't working right."

"Any survivors?" Buffy asked, her voice still cold, with only the slightest tremor.

"So far we have nearly a dozen survivors found on the outskirts of the effected zone." One of the tweed clad men spoke up, having finally caught up to the women. "The majority were demons, but the humans are being tended to."

The other man, having also caught up, cut in. "Most of the citizens it appears had already fled the city. Very few humans could've survived the two days of onslaught, as it were, so they were not harmed by the explosion."

"Angel?" Buffy finally asked, searching Faith's eyes, her voice soft now.

"We're looking, B. Haven't seen him or his team yet." She bit her lip and shoved her hands into her pockets, shoulders hunched in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. "We're set up at the Hyperion…" She finally finished, meeting Buffy's eyes for a moment to see if she understood the significance.

A slow nod signaled that she did. "Is it in decent condition?" She asked, her words carefully staying professional and analytical for the time being.

"It's quite strange, really." One of the watchers spoke up. "It appears to have been ground zero for the explosion, but remains almost untouched. As though it were somehow protected." His voice was curious, and Buffy could tell the man was just dying to research it some more, but she couldn't help the slight glimmer of hope his words gave. The Hyperion, Angel's old home, it was safe, and somehow it had been protected. Could his team be okay? Could he have survived?

Soon the Italian Alpha team was off the plane and walking quickly towards the center of the devastation. They were exchanging gasps and whispered conversation; same as before, so Buffy made a point of staying several yards ahead of the group. Faith however, stayed at her pace, examining the other chosen one in her peripheral vision.

"Best guess puts Giles, Andrew, and the rest of team Egypt here next, probably within the hour." Faith finally said, breaking the silence.

"And the Australian and Mongolian teams?" Buffy asked, desperately trying to keep her mind from thoughts of Angel. She'd never been to the Hyperion office, but she'd heard of it from Faith, and Willow, who had both spent time there. The last time she'd visited Angel he'd been in a much smaller office, in an actual office building, but she hadn't been to Los Angeles in years, a fact she was now beginning to regret.

"My ex and the Aussies will be here in a few hours. Wolfboy's only bringing a small unit from Mongolia, but they probably won't get here til nightfall." Faith was still trying to get a read on Buffy, but she wasn't getting much to go off of.

Buffy only nodded, and quickly let silence take the pair again as their pace grew slightly faster. Faith rolled her eyes to herself, but kept up with Buffy without much trouble. "So, Dawny'll be here soon, then, huh?" Faith asked, trying to change the subject to something a bit lighter.

"Berkeley, next fall." Buffy said, agreeing with a nod. It appeared nothing was really going to break the tension, so Faith just let out a slight huff and finally let the silence settle between them. It wasn't like they'd ever been super talkative with each other anyways.

When they finally got to the building, Buffy quickly made her way in through the empty frames that had once been glass doors. She walked into the lobby looking around at the scene, taking it in quickly, as years as a slayer had taught her. It was a fairly simple place. Surely once a long time ago it had been the height of posh, but now it was covered in dust and rubble, and the lobby was crowded with bustling teams of young slayers, wiccas chanting in several corners, and a row of gurneys with either the dead or dying strapped to their forms.

"Buffy!" Willow's voice pierced the air as the smiling redhead rushed over to give her friend a big hug. "Oh Goddess, I haven't seen you in weeks!" She squeezed tightly around the slayer, but Buffy only offered her a half smile and patted her back softly several times.

It had been more than a few weeks, and they both knew it, but the group didn't like to talk about how rare their reunions were. They saw each other on video conferences often enough, but the tension between Buffy and Kennedy had led the once good friends to have very little interaction as of late.

"I just wish it were under better conditions…" Willow finally said with a sigh as she stopped back, taking in Buffy's exhausted and strained appearance. "We're doing what we can though."

"Hey, Will. Yeah, Faith said you were having noise or something…" Buffy raised a curious eyebrow at her friend, hoping to get a slightly more comprehendible explanation.

"Right, well, it seems we've got some sort of interference." Willow explained, leading Buffy over to one of the chanting circles of women. "All our magic and tech signals are just sort of getting sucked up _whoosh_ straight into nothing." She explained making the sound effect and waving her hand to demonstrate.

"Why?" Buffy asked, looking at her friend with barely masked concern.

"Well, we don't exactly know." Willow admitted, blushing slightly and averting her eyes. Then with renewed vigor at the look of disappointment on Buffy's face, she added quickly, "But we will. We're working really hard, Buff, I swear!"

"So, was the explosion magical?" Dawn asked, hurrying up to join the conversation.

"Oh, Dawnie!" Willow squealed giving the girl a quick hug. "Yeah… we think so." She nodded her head quickly. "Speaking of, how's your magic coming?"

"Uh..." Dawn gave a quick glance at Buffy who seemed to have lost interest in the conversation and was taking in her surroundings again, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. "Well, I still can't do much beyond levitation: really small, teensy-tiny levitation. Buff won't let me try the real stuff yet."

"Yeah, of course. Big responsibility." Willow nodded quickly; her face doing it's best to look stern. She knew the risks of magic, and how protective Buffy was of her younger sister, and given her own history, she knew she could hardly speak up in protest of the restrictions. "That's all anyone can do around here right now, anyway. Even location spells just sort of… fizzle." Willow's lips pursed as though she were trying to think of some alternative approach, but she quickly gave up and refocused her energy on talking to Xander who had finally entered the lobby with the rest of the watchers.

Buffy paced the lobby, giving orders as they came to mind. She had most of the slayers present, as well as a handful of reformed demons, combing the rubble, still in search of anyone who might've survived. They only had a few hours of daylight left, and she knew once night fell it'd be much harder to find anyone, and any human survivors would be in even greater danger from the remaining demons.

Faith was busy trying to get in touch with the other bases, despite having hardly any signal at her disposal to do so. Kennedy and Willow were doing their best to monitor the witches, and the medical staff, but they too were having trouble with the interference, unable to do any healing or location spells.

Over the next several hours the other planes arrived, bringing with them three more teams. Buffy wasn't sure at first that there were enough rooms to house everyone, but as it turned out most of the other bases had brought fairly small teams. Andrew and Giles in particular, at Giles' instance that there was nothing that could be done beyond basic clean up.

Secretly, Buffy had to admit he was right, but she still disliked the certainty with which he explained himself. He was being cold about the whole situation, but she couldn't fault his logic, and didn't really want to get into a shouting match with her ex-watcher at the moment. It wouldn't end well, and she had more important things to focus on.

Night was falling quickly over the ruins of Los Angeles, and as the sun set the last of the teams returned from the rubble, bringing back only a few corpses, and tales of a few slain demons, but no survivors, and no familiar faces.

Buffy was talking to Oz, whose team had just arrived, when it happened. It felt as though a vacuum and fan had both been turned to full power in front of her and space was warping, ripping time and existence in its pull. A flash of brilliant blue light flooded the lobby, and Buffy turned quickly on her heels to face the source.

Her body moved instinctively into a basic defensive stance. Her knees bent and arms rose against the oncoming threat. She was braced for a fight, even if it was against nothing but light, time, and space. Which, as far as she could tell it was.

The blue was blindingly bright, but slowly it faded, becoming instead a small glow, which receded back, bit by bit until it was nothing but a shimmering blue halo around three dark silhouettes.

As the blue glow dimmed, the figures became clear. Two familiar male figures stood, clad in all black, brandishing weapons against unseen foes. Between them was a woman, arms outstretched, her skin and hair were tinged with the same blue that seemed to have faded from the air, and her body was covered in a tight leather suit of what resembled armor.

A moment later however, the girl's features lost their blue, her straight blue-streaked hair turned to soft brown waves, and blue skin grew rosy pink. Her lips parted in a slight gasp, and then her body was falling to the ground, eyes sliding shut.

"Fred!" Buffy vaguely heard Willow's voice shout, as her friend rushed towards the trio. The larger of the men, the man Buffy instantly recognized as Angel, turned to the girl catching her falling body. He crumbled around her, his abandoned weapon clanking to the floor behind him.

Buffy didn't notice though. She saw Angel, the face she'd been searching for since her arrival, but she hardly spared him a second glance. Nor did she acknowledge the falling girl, the girl whom she was quite sure she'd never met. Her eyes, instead, were glued to the third figure. The familiar duster, still twirling, almost like an afterthought of the vortex, his platinum blond hair still slicked back, caked with dirt, and starting to show deep brown roots at the base. His body was covered in goo, and blood, and dust, but his face was just as she remembered. Cheekbones that seemed to defy all physics and eyes so blue she almost wondered if the light hadn't quite faded after all.

She waited for a moment, expecting him to fade, as the light had, just a hallucination of her wishful thinking. Perhaps Dawn had been right, she hadn't been sleeping enough lately, she had probably just passed out when that light had flooded the lobby. Yes, that was it.

"Spike?" Her voice cracked, a hoarse whisper, as her eyes refused to blink, certain the apparition would vanish if she dared.

Her voice was so feeble, hardly anyone heard in the commotion. But his senses were as keen as ever and his head turned quickly to face her, his eyes meeting hers straight on.

"Spike?" She asked again, swallowing and allowing herself to blink a few times. Her voice was slightly stronger this time, and even Angel looked up from Fred's fallen body to see the look of pure confusion on Buffy's face.

"Buffy…" Spike began, his voice uneven, as though he too thought he might be imagining this. But he wasn't seeing a ghost; so he accepted her presence after a moment, with a warm smile spreading across his exhausted features.

"Spike." She said a third time, her voice strong still, but shaky with raw emotion. His voice though, it had been so clear that she couldn't deny it anymore. That look in his eyes, the same one she was sure her own eyes held, that look of disbelieving need, it spurred her on.


	4. Falling Apart

She wasn't sure what was happening, but soon Buffy's legs were moving forward, her steps slow at first, as though they'd forgotten exactly how to walk. Spike took a step forward himself, but then stopped himself, unsure of what to do. But Buffy, despite her confusion, did not slow her approach; in fact, gradually her steps grew more confident as she strode, just short of a jog, towards him.

Suddenly he was right in front of her. She was standing directly in front of the man she was so sure she'd lost forever. A million thoughts were pounding on the outskirts of her consciousness, fighting to be heard, or analyzed, but for the moment a calm silence had overtaken her mind. There were no thoughts, only actions, actions she knew by heart.

His lips parted, as though he were about to speak, about to explain the past year to her as well as he could or say something, anything, to the woman he loved. But no words escaped his lips, for they weren't even given time. Instead her hand reached up, tugging slightly at his neck, and leaning her own body forward, into his.

She brought their lips together quickly. His lips already parted, hers soon followed suit. They met hungrily; the need that had always existed between them only seemed to have strengthened in their absence. His tongue slid with aching familiarity between her lips, and began a choreographed dance with her own.

Her hands gripped at his neck, and his own long hands, calloused from the battle, ignored their pain to grip at her waist, pulling her up and in towards him. She gasped softly against him, and he returned a low rumbling noise, somewhere between a purr and growl. It was a primal sound, and for a moment it drove her on. The gentle motions of their lips became harsher and rushed.

Suddenly, remembering Buffy would need to breathe, Spike pulled back slowly, tenderly allowing her waist to slip backwards, beneath his fingertips, as she came to rest on flat feet once more. With a deep breath, Buffy took a small step backwards.

Thoughts that had been on the edges of her mind were now rushing forwards, loud, but muffled in her head. Her vision was blurred slightly by unshed tears that were beginning to well up, but she could clearly see Spike standing before her, awestruck, and hopeful. And the thoughts were muffled no longer.

Her hands had slid down from his shoulders without her noticing, and she lifted her right hand quickly, instinctually. Before she knew exactly what was happening, it was swinging quickly forward, making a satisfying _THWACK_ against his face. His head turned sharply on impact, and he quickly reared around to face her, as her hand fell to her side, limp once more.

His eyes widened, looking even bluer in contrast to the vibrant red where her slap had hit. "What the bloody hell was that for, you crazy bint!" He shouted, lifting a hand to rub his cheek as he moved his jaw side to side, as though checking to make sure he could.

"Crazy bint!" Buffy shouted, completely oblivious to the wide-eyed onlookers that had been watching them since Spike had called her name. "How DARE you?" Her eyes were set with a fiery glare, and her hands clenched into fists at either side of her body. Her lithe form was in a fighting stance Spike knew well, and a fighting stance that on this slayer, more than anything else, he knew to fear.

He stepped back a few paces, lifting his hands in a slight surrender. "Come now, love. How 'bout we just go back to the snogging, yeah?"

She lifted her fist, ready to punch him in the nose, a painfully familiar signal of her anger. But she was stopped by a firm grip from Faith around her wrist. Faith, however, sent a warning glare Spike's way, and slowly, as she felt the tension lessen in Buffy's arm, released her hold.

"So, you're alive then?" Buffy asked, her stance still offensive, and her voice eerily calm.

"Yeah, pet. Been helping out Peaches here in LA." Spike nodded, staying at least an arm's length back from Buffy, keeping an eye on her body for tell-tale signs of attack.

"How long?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How. Long. Have. You. Been. Alive?"She let the words out slowly between gritted teeth, and Spike did his best not to wince at the anger in her tone that he knew was aimed at him and him alone.

"It's complicated, love." Spike warned, raising his hands again in a sign of surrender, as well as defense.

"How. Long." She repeated, and his face fell, knowing he'd have to answer.

"Bout six months. Plus a few all ghost-like." Spike finally admitted, his eyes quickly falling to face the ground and muscles tensing for impact.

"SIX MONTHS!" She was furious, and she was shouting. The lungs on that girl were, without doubt, something to marvel at. Perhaps they too had been improved by her calling, or perhaps she was just loud. "AND DID YOU EVEN CONSIDER PICKING UP A GODDAMN PHONE? MAYBE LETTING THE WOMAN YOU SUPPOSEDLY LOVED KNOW THAT OH HEY, BY THE WAY_, YOU WERE ALIVE_!"

"It's not so simple, love. I figured-" But Spike was cut off again by her screams before he could explain himself.

"You FIGURED? You idiot! I've been mourning you for a year! Every day since Sunnydale has been my own personal Hell, but hey, you FIGURED! What do you know, that makes it all hunky-dory!"

Spike's lips pursed, as he did his best to take the shouting he knew, on some level, he probably deserved. But it wasn't in his nature, even as love's bitch, to let her yell at him like this. After everything they'd been through, she at least owed him his explanation. And yeah, after it, he'd probably get told off and he'd deal with that when it came to it, but come hell or high water he was going to get his side out before she got up on her high horse. "Could you set your bleeding god complex aside for one soddin' minute, slayer? Let the rest of us get a word in?"

With a loud huff, Buffy lifted her fist, and let out a particularly fierce right hook to his nose. She heard a satisfying crack, and couldn't hold back the slight curl on the edge of her lips as she saw red pouring from the wound as he fell to the ground, caught completely off guard.

With a sated "hmph" Buffy turned on her heels, hardly noticing when Spike tried to prop himself up on his elbows and began to swear loudly. Instead she just began to walk quickly up the staircase to the rooms above, ignoring the roomful of eyes that were glancing back and forth between Spike's fallen form and her retreating one.

A stunned silence fell over the entire lobby, if not the whole city. Very few present had ever seen Buffy so angry, and everyone was terrified of her wrath. Even those that had witnessed this rage in the past, knew with the utmost certainty that intervening would be dangerous at best, and likely fatal.

After a long pause, Faith stepped forwards and offered out an arm, helping Spike up from the ground. As she did so, the rest of the hotel seemed to regain their composure, movement rekindling everywhere, as voices and shuffling began to break through the quiet.


End file.
